Return of Memoryfest - Day 3/31

[bironic]

First couple of differences between this year's project and last year's:

- More comments. I love it and I will do my best to keep up with everyone.
- Slow showing for RL friends and acquaintances. So far there are only two of you. This makes me sad. kabale? catilinarian? Both Michelles? Accio and Patronus people? I miss you guys. Serves me right for posting about House all the time; I've scared you off.

Anyway, on to tonight's.


3. High School

Our family was cleaning out the basement one night, and I'd gone upstairs and out the back door to take out a bag of trash. When I got to the gate of the fence that separates our backyard from the driveway, I thought I heard a noise, like a clinking. I paused, but whatever it was, if it had been anything, had gone quiet. On alert, I opened the gate and stepped towards the garbage cans. Another clink and suddenly there was movement to my left and with a jolt in my chest I turned and saw that it was a dog in the darkness. Its collar was making the noise. Frozen, heart pounding, thinking of stories of animal attacks despite knowing it was ridiculous because I thought I recognized the dog as a neighbor's, I waited to see what it would do. It trotted off across the lawn.

I put away the trash and went back inside, still hyper-vigilant from the scare. It was as I crossed the kitchen on my way back to the basement that I noticed my hands were shaking. I couldn't stop them. Strangely embarrassed, I waited till the shaking lessened and then went downstairs.

When I write someone experiencing an adrenaline surge, I go back to that night, to the shock of suppressed panic and the shaking that wouldn't be controlled.

About the Memoryfest

Comments

[bironic.livejournal.com]

(I remember you saying in the author's notes to your story about Wilson hurting his toe playing street hockey that you've suffered a lot of sports injuries. I guess this was one of them!)

Ergh, how embarrassing. That was sweet of your science teacher to try to soothe you, even if his efforts didn't work as intended.

One of my good friends from college's father was an assistant principal at her high school, which led to all sorts of awkward situations with her friends as well as with other teachers. You probably have a whole arsenal of stories about what it was like to attend school when your parent was a teacher there.

[mer-duff.livejournal.com]

Toes and knees are my trouble spots :) I don't even count bruises any more...

My mom taught at my primary school and my dad at my high school, so I only had a grace period of three years (5-7) without a parent at my school. I could probably fill the remaining 28 days with stories about that!

[bironic.livejournal.com]

Oh boy, I bet you could. That must have been interesting.

The worst sports-related injuries I've had were a sprained ankle while ice skating (from falling over someone who fell in front of me) and a ... hematoma, I guess, from smacking my leg with my badminton racquet (also very painful, and has left a bizarre, ring-shaped, bluish mark around the vein).

[mer-duff.livejournal.com]

Ouch! The ACL was the worst, at least in terms of recovery time, but I've managed to injure a knee in just about every sport I've ever played. I even managed to gash my left knee open after literally throwing myself over the finish line during a 200 metre race. Both my parents were present for that one and while my mother mustered some of her students to get first aid supplies, my father lectured me on waiting too long in the race to kick into top gear (he was right). But I won.